


Love Letters

by angeleledhwen (kallistei), eledhwen (kallistei)



Series: Charmed [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-08-10
Updated: 2003-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-07 05:05:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1886163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kallistei/pseuds/angeleledhwen, https://archiveofourown.org/users/kallistei/pseuds/eledhwen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Snape finds a love letter.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Letters

**Author's Note:**

> Part of the Severus Snape Fuh-Q-Fest. Response to three word challenge "beyond green eyes". Thanks to Isis and Amanuensis for the beta. Part of the 'Charmed' series. The ice skates are explained in 'Photo Manipulation', also part of the series. The poem Harry sends is from 'A Song of a Young Lady to her Ancient Lover', by John Wilmot, Earl of Rochester.

After dismissing his fifth-year class - Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs - Severus made his usual survey of the classroom. Although the useless creatures would not have dared to leave his class without making an attempt at what they called 'tidying up' - and what he more often called 'smearing around the mess' - there was inevitably something that he would have to deal with. Worse, he had not been able to find an excuse to assign detention today, which meant he would have to be even more thorough.

As he walked between two rows of desks, he paused and bent to check the floor. One of the idiots had managed to let his cauldron boil over - the culprit had been a Hufflepuff, of course, but his Ravenclaw partner hadn't had the brains to catch the mistake in time - and he didn't want to risk a reaction if someone in the next class managed the same thing. Considering that it was first-year Gryffindors, first thing tomorrow morning, they invariably would. He didn't think there had been a class so far this year that hadn't managed it. Proper care of a fire was something, it seemed, that was impossible to get through thick Gryffindor skulls, although there was some hope for improvement in some members of the Gryffindor population. There would be Slytherins in the class too, but naturally he had no fears on that score. Thankfully, he didn't detect any traces of potion, but he did spot a stray piece of parchment lying under a desk in the neighbouring row.

He frowned. Someone should have noticed that, if anyone had been making a real effort to check the floor. He'd have to remember to make a point of that in the next lesson. Perhaps if he set a six-inch essay on dangerous interactions between potions on that year's syllabus it would  _finally_ make some impression? Contemplating this, he walked over to pick up the scrap of parchment. Most probably one of the brats would turn up outside his office that evening, asking shamefacedly if he'd happened to pick up his notes. Severus would berate him, and then give them back. Maybe he'd assign detention, for carelessness. That had a good ring to it. On second thoughts, he'd send them to Filch's tender care. He had other plans in mind for this evening.

At any rate, lecturing the hapless student would be a welcome distraction from marking, although he naturally wouldn't show it. Of course, there was always the hope that there would be something _really_ interesting on the parchment, but in all his years of teaching he could count on one hand, with four fingers to spare, the number of love letters he'd seen. Although that one incident had afforded _incredible_ scope for amusement for the rest of the school year. The two students concerned hadn't been able to look him in the face for months.

Hm. Actually, it looked like that number was about to double. The parchment was folded into a square, 'To my Love' inscribed on the front in what was clearly someone's best handwriting - a pathetic attempt, but then, this was a student, and all students' writing was calculated to give a headache to anyone attempting to mark fifty essays in a night. Severus smiled, perhaps a touch cruelly, and didn't pause before unfolding the note although he was under no delusion that he was the intended recipient.

Ah, it seemed to be an attempt at poetry. This promised to be  _most_ entertaining. His smile widened slightly. The writing inside was distinctly different from the address, scruffy and with the occasional word or line crossed out. Clearly the love-struck fool hadn't thought to write a rough version when attempting to compose the poem. Severus began to read, making mental notes of suggestions for corrections he might offer when - if - the 'poet' came to reclaim it. Or perhaps he would simply offer his opinions to the whole class, and see who came crawling out of the woodwork.

_'Beyond green eyes_  
 _I see graceful skies_  
 _You'd hold me all night  
_ _Safe in your sight_

_Yes, you are my Harry_  
 _It's my heart you carry  
_ _I would love...'_

Here it stopped abruptly, perhaps because the aspiring poet had run out of time or inspiration. Severus read it with amusement at first, but his eyes widened when he read the 'Harry'. It couldn't be, surely. Then again, there was the 'green eyes' comment. He stared at the parchment in his hands and tried to absorb the fact that someone - a student! - was writing love poetry to Harry. To  _his_ Harry. He frowned thoughtfully. On the other hand, this had some distinct... possibilities. A rather vicious gleam sparking in his eyes, he refolded the parchment, tucked it into his pocket, and since his previous class had been his last of the day, made for their rooms.

They were empty, as he'd expected. Harry still had one class left to teach, so they wouldn't see each other before dinner. Severus showered quickly to remove the residue of a day's worth of standing in a Potions classroom, and then settled himself on the sofa with a book to while away the rest of the hour, a positively evil smirk on his face.

He and Harry sat next to each other at dinner, and as usual said little after greeting each other, talking instead to their other neighbours. And if Harry wondered why Severus glanced at him from time to time with what he had by now learned to recognise as the closest Severus got to a mischievous expression, he didn't choose to bring it up at the dinner table.

They walked back to their rooms together, exchanging the newest trials and tribulations of being a teacher at Hogwarts. In their rooms, Harry slipped off his shoes and robe. Severus gave him a vaguely chastising look as Harry tossed the latter over the back of an armchair, but didn't comment. He'd long since stopped hoping to break Harry of that particular habit. They each went to their own desk, making a start on the day's pile of marking. Severus still didn't mention the 'love letter', but laughter flickered in his eyes more often and more openly now. Harry began to give him the occasional considering and faintly bewildered look whenever it appeared.

Harry finished his pile first. Rather than vanishing into the shower as he usually did, he waited for Severus, knowing he had something up his sleeve. He sat on the sofa, in the spot the other man had vacated just before dinner, and began flicking through the book that he'd left on the side table.

Severus finished marking perhaps half an hour later. He put his quill carefully away and walked over to sit beside Harry.

For a few minutes neither of them spoke, Harry still flicking idly through Severus' book and reading the occasional passage, Severus watching him with the look of faint amusement now fixed firmly on his face. In the end, Harry gave in.

"All right," he said, closing the book. "What've you got to hold over my head now?"

"Oh, nothing," Severus replied. "But I did come across something very interesting when I was checking the room after my last class today."

"Oh?" Harry knew better than to relax yet.

"One of the little adolescent monsters had dropped a note. Imagine my surprise when I discovered its nature."

Harry tried. He couldn't think that any of the normal note-passing that went on in most classes - although, he had to admit, usually not Severus' - would surprise him. That comment about adolescence implied it was some sort of confession of love/lust, but he couldn't see why Severus would want to share it with him.

"It was most interesting. Well, I'll let you read it." He produced the note from his pocket and handed it to Harry, whose eyes widened slightly on reading the direction, crinkled with laughter at the first verse, and blinked in utter confusion on seeing his own name.

Severus watched these expressions come and go, and smiled a little. "I see you understand my feelings now," he said when Harry finally looked up at him. "And so I have to ask you, Harry, if you have been encouraging your students to write you love letters. Because, as I'm sure you understand, that is not considered acceptable behaviour by this school, even to someone as new to teaching as you are."

Harry blinked again, and his mouth opened and closed without any sound emerging. "I... No! What? How could you even... You know we... I..." His hand closed around the sheet of parchment.

"Ah, I see. Then you have merely been flirting with them." His tone was utterly solemn.

Harry gaped for a moment. Finally looking up at Severus, he registered the tiny smile. "You..." he said, utterly lost for words. "You know me better than that. And besides," he added with a stroke of inspiration, "which of us in this room is sleeping with his student?"

" _Former_ student," corrected Severus. "And  _touché_."

Harry grinned at him and glanced down at the now rather crumpled parchment in his hand. "It really is very bad," he said, "but it's the first time I've ever had poetry written to me."

"What, not even when all the girls were chasing you with severe matrimonial intent?" Severus' smile turned faintly pensive, as he thought back to the time when he and Harry had met again for the first time after Harry had left Hogwarts.

Harry laughed. "No. I think they were all too busy chasing. Anyway, I think I might hang on to this. For nostalgia's sake, for when I'm old and wrinkly, and all of my students hate me."

"Like me, you mean? I should be more hurt by that comment, but I'm making an effort to be understanding of your habit of speaking before you think. And I'm sure the perpetrator of that crime against poetry would hardly dare to come to me to ask if I'd found it, so I should think you would be safe in keeping it."

"Yes, exactly like you." Harry put the parchment on top of the book and slid a little closer to Severus.

"Do you know, I'm starting to think I may be just a little jealous of your unknown admirer."

"Oh?" Harry asked, and leaned up to press a kiss to the corner of Severus' mouth.

"Yes. I'm convinced you were not nearly this pleased by my gift at Christmas."

"That was because you gave me ice skates. And insisted I learn how to use them. And had no sympathy for my bruises afterwards."

"You were the one searching my wardrobe."

"I suppose. Well, in that case, I think I ought to make it up to you."

"You do."

This time, Harry didn't reply verbally. Instead he moved so he was kneeling astride Severus' lap, and pulled him into a proper kiss. Severus' arms came up to hold him in place, and his mouth opened to Harry's questioning tongue. When the kiss finally broke, Harry leaned his forehead against Severus'. He gasped for air for a moment, and finally said "Yes." Then he pressed his mouth to the other man's again before he could answer, nibbling his bottom lip, trying to steal his breath. Severus' hands slid up to the back of his head, holding him in place so he could return the favour.

Harry tore his mouth away again. He could never concentrate when Severus was kissing him, and Severus' robes always required all of his attention if they were to be removed in one piece. There were advantages to ripping each other's clothes off, but he didn't think today was the right time for that. Severus' mouth moved to Harry's earlobe - almost as distracting as the kiss - as Harry began to work at the row of tiny buttons. Harry gasped and moaned, and kept unbuttoning, pausing briefly when Severus began to work on his throat before he gathered together the shreds of his brain and continued. Severus' hands were roaming all over his back and arse, massaging and squeezing. With a sigh of relief, he slipped the last button out of its hole.

Severus let go of Harry so he could shrug out of his robe, and fairly attacked Harry's shirt buttons. Harry growled at being beaten to the mark and ground his hips down against the other man's, their erections finally meeting. This time they both moaned, but Severus didn't stop unbuttoning. Thwarted, Harry turned his attention to Severus' throat, biting at the spot where shoulder melted into neck, smelling clean soap, tasting a hint of fresh sweat. By the time he had a respectable bruise going, Severus was sliding his shirt off. Harry hissed at the feeling of warm hands sliding across his chest, long fingers brushing his nipples in a way perfectly calculated to drive him insane. He rocked his hips, seeking more friction, and reclaimed Severus' mouth, fumbling with yet more smooth, ridiculously miniscule buttons. Impatient, he tore his mouth away, put his right hand palm-down right over Severus' heart, and after a few gulps of air managed to get out a single word that made Severus' shirt disappear.

The next kiss was shorter, but with the contact of their now-bare chests, far more intense. Harry shivered slightly at the moan Severus loosed into his mouth. This time when they broke for air, Harry forced himself off Severus' lap, and said, firmly, "Bed." His hands fell to his own waistband, struggling to free his almost painful erection, and he shed the last of his clothing as he nearly stumbled through the doorway to the bedroom. The sounds behind him indicated that Severus was doing much the same.

He turned in time to meet Severus' lips yet again. They shared an addiction to kissing, they had found, and indulged it at every opportunity. Harry couldn't keep himself from writhing against Severus' body and caressing hands, which seemed to be everywhere against his now-naked skin. He whimpered faintly as Severus mouthed tiny kisses along his jaw-line and down his throat, and somehow they managed to manoeuvre themselves onto the bed with the barest break in contact. Harry blessed the last year and a half of practice as he rolled on top of Severus as soon as they were settled.

He bent his head to Severus' nipple, licking then worrying gently at it, revelling in his sharp intake of breath and the outright moan that followed. The sounds flowed into his ears like wine down his throat, intoxicating. He resisted the urge to rub against the sheets and moved to the other nipple, giving it similar treatment, then began to work his way down the other man's pale torso. He dipped his tongue into the navel, savouring the hint of salt, but when he was about to move lower, Severus' hands, which had been flung out across the bed, came to his shoulders, pulling him up. He allowed himself to be guided into another kiss, but when Severus shifted, about to roll them over, he resisted and broke the kiss.

"I'm supposed to be making it up to you, remember?" he asked. When Severus relaxed and gave him the shadow of a smile, Harry grinned, and just barely brushed his lips across Severus' again. "Now, where was I?" he asked, and moved down Severus' body again. He pressed a kiss to a tempting patch of smooth inner thigh. This wasn't his favourite thing to do, but Severus loved it, and his reaction was always incredible. And he found that as he grew better at it, it became more pleasant. He took a deep breath, running a gentle finger along Severus' length. The hiss Severus gave didn't quite translate into Parseltongue, but Harry could interpret it anyway.

He flicked his tongue out, licking at the head of Severus' erection. A bead of precome smeared slick and tangy under his tongue, and Severus' hips jerked slightly. Harry wrapped one hand around the base of Severus' cock to steady it, closing his eyes for a moment at the feeling of warm silk and steel against his palm. Slowly, he lowered his mouth, taking in as much of Severus as he could, swirling his tongue against the underside in the way he knew Severus liked best. He pushed away the awareness of his own arousal as best he could, concentrating on making this good. Severus was obviously controlling himself, and Harry brought up his free hand to rest on his thigh, his thumb stroking soothingly, as he began to move his head up, pausing to suckle at the tip before plunging down again, building up a slow, steady rhythm. Severus' hands were tangled in his hair, cradling his head, guiding him, much warmer than usual against his scalp. Harsh breaths, nearly moans, escaped him.

When he could feel that Severus was close to the edge, Harry pulled away completely. Severus made a little noise of extreme displeasure, and dropped his hands. Harry smiled and leaned across precariously to rummage in the bedside table. The bed gave a little creak as he grabbed the corner post to keep from toppling off Severus. As he moved back, Severus leaned up and kissed him, his hands roaming across the expanses of revealed skin, stroking across his front, and up his sides, and down his back, until Harry shivered and fumbled the jar into his hand.

Between them, they managed to get it unscrewed. The smell of rain, underlain by wet earth, filled the room. Severus dipped his fingers into the slippery gel, and Harry shifted again, stretching out over Severus, his legs falling easily between the other man's. He buried his face in Severus' shoulder, as first a dry hand caressed his arse, then a lubricated finger slipped between his cheeks and stroked across his entrance. He pushed up into the touch, and Severus chuckled and kept stroking.

And stroking, until Harry thought he would go insane from just that one touch.

"Please," he mumbled into the warm skin against his lips, pressing a kiss against it.

"You only had to ask," and the finger slid into him, all the way in one slick glide as Harry relaxed against the welcome intrusion. He sighed and murmured his pleasure as it moved gently inside him, then withdrew for a moment and returned with more wetness and a friend. Severus' fingers pushed in, deeper than before, and he had a split second to tense in anticipation before they scraped purposefully against his prostate and he squirmed in the grasp of the arm not occupied with driving him insane with pleasure.

"More," he said. "Now," turning his head so he could kiss the pale, thin cheek that was so close.

Severus gave one last thrust of his fingers and removed them, wrapping his arms around Harry and rolling them over. Harry watched as he scooped out more lubricant, wrapped his hand around his own cock and stroked once, twice. His little moan sent another jolt of arousal through Harry. Not that he needed any more. Then Severus lifted Harry's legs onto his shoulders and positioned himself. He waited a moment, poised to enter. Harry looked up at him, looped an arm around his neck, and pulled him down so their faces were almost touching. "Please," he said again.

Severus made a choked little sound and thrust in, exquisitely slow, so Harry could feel each new centimetre entering him. His chest felt tight as he looked up at the man above him, as it always did when they were doing this. Severus paused again when he was all the way inside Harry, leaning down just that touch further and brushing a kiss to Harry's mouth.

He drew back slightly and began to move, thrusting slowly at first - almost excruciatingly so, to Harry's way of thinking - but soon picking up speed. Harry pushed back against him, welcoming every thrust, resenting every withdrawal except for the satisfaction of the return. He could feel heat in his face, in his whole body, and he could hear his own breathy little moans over the sounds of flesh meeting flesh.

Too soon, Severus was back at the edge. He freed one hand, supporting himself carefully on the other, and wrapped it around Harry's cock. Harry bucked slightly under him, his arse clenching at the extra dimension of pleasure. Severus groaned and thrust again, harder than he had intended. He fisted Harry's cock urgently and drove them both towards that rapidly-approaching cliff.

Harry felt the coil of pleasure drawing tighter and tighter, until all of a sudden it was too much, snapping through him, filling him with fiery pleasure. His breath left him in a groan as he came, spilling into the hand still pumping him. His eyes flickered shut as he felt Severus thrust into him one last time and came with a groan of his own, and a warm weight crushed him into the soft, yielding mattress.

They lay for several minutes, gathering breath and energy. Eventually Severus rolled off him, and Harry held back a noise of complaint. A soft word cleaned them both, then Harry was drawn into Severus' arms and kissed softly. He smiled sleepily at his lover.

"So, am I forgiven?"

"Most definitely." Another gentle kiss, and Harry kissed back with as much energy as he could muster - not much, under the circumstances.

"Nox," he said, snuggling closer and letting his eyes fall shut.

Almost a week later, early in the morning, Severus walked into his classroom to check that all was in readiness for his first class. He caught sight of something on the floor in front of his desk. Picking it up, he found that it held the same dedication as the last one, but this time written in a hand that he knew well. He unfolded it and read, knowing that this  _was_ meant for him.

_Ancient person, for whom I_  
 _All the flattering youth defy,_  
 _Long be it ere thou grow old,_   
_Aching, shaking, crazy, cold;_   
_But still continue as thou art,_   
_Ancient person of my heart._

Severus laughed quietly to himself and read the note that followed. 'Sorry I couldn't write you a poem myself, but I came across this one and thought it was rather fitting'. He smiled again, tucked it into his pocket, and left the classroom to go to breakfast. He'd have a few words to say to Harry later about that 'ancient person' line.


End file.
